I just can't stop loving you
by dicaprio
Summary: It's the beginning of July 2010, and Syed is now straight and Christian has moved on; and my cat can moonwalk.
1. Chapter 1

_21 May 2010_

"I promise you mum, I can do this, I swear ... I know you're going to get your son back," says Syed; and he truly believes this.

_Six weeks later_

"I can't do it. I can't not love him. Christian. No matter what I do. Or what my God says. I just can't. I must pray harder. Make him hear," Syed admits, an edge of desperation to his voice.

"Syed, it doesn't matter if you pray day and night for the next year, you won't change who you are," Tamwar says gently, his face full of sadness at what his big brother has been reduced to.

"Don't say that," Syed cries in distress. "I promised mum and dad, I have to beat this."

"Syed ..." Tamwar starts to say.

"Anyway, enough of me and my problems, what about you?" he interrupts breezily. "I can't remember the last time you told me what you were up to."

"There's nothing to tell," replies Tamwar. "I've got to decide what to do next, since I'm not going to Oxford."

"You know there are other universities," says Syed. "You could try aiming a little lower; doing a slightly different course, perhaps, or going to college. You shouldn't just give up."

"I don't know, maybe," says Tamwar doubtfully.

"Any news on the girl front?" Syed asks casually.

"No," says Tamwar blushing furiously.

"Tambo?" grasps Syed excitedly, sensing he's stumbled onto something. "Come on, spill," he insists jumping up and walking mock-menacingly towards him.

"There's nothing to tell," insists Tamwar, also getting up and backing away from him towards the door.

"You know I'll get it out of you, somehow," teases Syed getting ready to put operation "tickle till he tells" into action. It never failed with Tamwar.

"Get off, Syed," begs Tamwar, putting one hand out to stop him, as he reaches behind him to open the sitting room door with the other.

"What's all the racket?" shouts Zainab from upstairs. And as Syed freezes, momentarily distracted, Tamwar makes a run for it.

"Tam, Tam, get back here," Syed calls after him, laughing as he chases him out the door and down the street.

"There's nothing to tell, I promise," pleads Tamwar, looking back at a grinning Syed hot on his tail as he rounds the corner of the Vic and goes crashing into Christian, tipping the Indian take out he's carrying all over him.

"Tamwar," screams Christian outraged, "look at what you've done, you idiot," he cries looking down at his new once snow-white shirt now covered in chicken tikka.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," says Tamwar, staring horrified at the mess he's made, "I'll pay for the dry cleaning."

"Tambo, Tambo," shouts Syed as he charges around the corner, crashing into Tamwar and sending him crashing once more into Christian; this time knocking Christian to the ground, and covering him in the last of the take out, and causing him to drop the bottle of wine he is also carrying.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I can't …" babbles Syed, as he and Tamwar help Christian to his feet; with Syed immediately dropping his arm and nervously backing away as soon as Christian is once more upright.

Christian looks from one to the other, not knowing whether to be angry or to laugh at their two terrified faces. "Do you know how much I paid for this shirt, these trousers?" he barks at Tamwar trying to hold onto his anger; and to avoid staring at Syed, who is looking intently at his shoes. "I was dressed up for a reason, I had plans, and I don't have time to change," he snaps when Tamwar doesn't immediately answer him.

"I am really sorry," insists Tamwar, but Christian is not ready do calm down.

"That's not much good to me, is it?" he shouts.

"Syed is still in love with you," Tamwar blurts out desperately; and as Syed's head snaps up, and Christian's mouth drops open, he takes his opportunity to run off.

"Syed?" asks Christian at the same time as Syed says, "He's lying, he just said it to distract you."

"And he thinks telling me you love me will shake me to my foundations, does he?" asks Christian sarcastically.

Syed doesn't answer, but lowers his eyes to hide his pain. "I'll drop round the money for the dry cleaning tomorrow," he says in a subdued voice, and goes to walk past Christian.

But Christian reaches out and grabs his arm, "Not so fast," he says sharply, dragging Syed back until they are level, "we need to talk, catch up," he adds in a tone that brooks no argument. "Come back to the flat, I need to change out of this," he says, looking down once more at the mess that was his beautiful new shirt.

"I need to get home," says Syed nervously, as he tries to pull his arm from Christian's grip.

"What are you afraid of?" he taunts. "Now that you're straight again, 'cured' of the gay 'illness'," he sneers bitterly, "you shouldn't be in any danger in my flat alone with me for a little while. You are cured, I take it?"

Syed doesn't answer.

"Syed?"

"Yea, I'm cured," he mumbles, without looking at him.

"Right, then, it's settled," he concludes, setting off for his flat without letting go of Syed's arm so that he has no choice but to follow.

Once they are inside Christian's flat, the memories come rushing back for Syed, and he feels overwhelmed. He realises he has to get out of there, immediately; and as soon as Christian has left the room, Syed rushes back out the door.

"Wow, not so fast," murmurs Christian as he catches him on the stairs. "What's the rush," he whispers close to his ear, before dragging him back up to the flat; this time locking the door behind them.

"Make some coffee or tea," he orders, before going to finish changing.

Syed is pacing back and forth when Christian returns a few minutes later. "Unlock the door, I want to leave," he demands as soon as he sees him. He tries to inject a commanding tone into his voice, but it comes out all shaky.

"Now that you're straight, do you still take sugar in your coffee?" asks Christian as he fills the kettle.

"Sit," he orders, a few minutes later handing Syed the coffee.

Syed automatically takes the drink and sits down.

"So, tell me about this straightening process, is it painful?"

Syed doesn't answer.

"Have you been out with any girls since you passed your 'final exam', just to test yourself?"

Again, Syed doesn't answer.

"Okay, you don't want to talk about it, so let's talk about the suicide attempt," Christian says casually, not taking his eyes of Syed.

No answer.

"Sy, the sooner you talk to me, the sooner you get to leave."

"I thought you had an important date tonight?" Syed demands abruptly, "shouldn't you be heading off?"

"Did I say 'date'? I thought I said 'plans'? Christian murmurs. "Anyway, I've cancelled, so you don't have to worry on my account."

"Well, I really need to be getting back, mum will be wondering where I am," Syed tries once more.

"Ah, mum of the year, Zainab," laughs Christian, "does she still wish you were dead?"

"Don't, don't you speak to me like that," cries Syed jumping up, his eyes filling with tears.

"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry babe," says Christian huskily, instantly regretting letting his own anger and pain push him into taking such a cheap and hurtful shot. He quickly gets up and reaches for Syed, taking him in his arms. He kisses the side of his head and holds him gently.

Having Christian's arms around him once more, after all he's been through in the last couple of months, is too much for Syed; and before he can think about it, he's clinging to him and crying like his heart is going to burst, his face buried in his shoulder.

After a little while, the torrent passes, and he is able to get himself under control again. He moves out of Christian's embrace and, wiping away his tears with a tissue Christian gives him, sits back down.

"I didn't plan to commit suicide," he says shakily. "I just wanted to get drunk and forget everything for a little while, but then Roxy, she said ... I felt so terrible, everything was all my fault … and then I saw the pills on the table ... I don't know if I was thinking very clearly ..."

"I'm sorry about what Roxy said, she thought she was fighting my corner," Christian explains, "she didn't know the whole story. When it really hit me what you'd almost managed to do, I was so angry; I couldn't believe you would give up like that, try to leave me forever without warning."

"You didn't want to see me ever again," Syed reminded him, the tremor in his voice betraying how much hearing that had hurt him.

"No, I didn't," Christian admits, "but 'ever again' in the heat of the moment is very different from 'ever again' literally.

"And you've moved on, I saw you leaving the Vic with that guy," Syed can't help accusing.

"Yes, I have moved on," Christian confirms, "more than once, in fact, over the last few weeks."

"Good for you," says Syed bitterly, getting up once more to leave.

"Did I say we were finished?" asks Christian reaching for his hand to stop him moving away.

"Why are you doing this?" Syed cries swinging around to face him. "If we hadn't just bumped into you in the street, I wouldn't be here. You've moved on, you don't care about me anymore, and I'm straight. There is no point in us having this conversation, or in my being here."

"I'm guessing your miracle worker told you to stay away from me; maybe he warned you that, although you are now straight, I might try to corrupt you and undo all his hard work," Christian suggests quietly; "so if you want me to stay away, leave you alone from now on, you'll finish our little chat."

Syed sighs, and sits back down.

"So, how far did this 'curing' business go? Did he hurt you? Was it just preaching, chanting, or did it get a bit more serious?" Christian asks.

"It was mainly about attending counselling sessions," Syed explains reluctantly. "During these sessions, they help you to understand that there is no such thing as homosexuality; that you are heterosexual, but have a homosexual problem, which you can cure by re-educating your mind. You also attend one-on-one sessions where they ask you questions about your life to try to figure out why you have SSA – for example, it could be because of some kind of emotional trauma or abuse you suffered in your childhood. After meeting mum, Allen had the idea that my close relationship with her and her strong dominant personality may have played a part. They tell you your own masculinity is broken, and show you how you can heal. 'SSA is something you choose to do, not something you are' – that kind of thing," he concludes self-consciously.

"SSA?"

"Same sex attraction."

"Wow, that's really mad," Christian laughs, "I can't believe they are still trying to pull this sh*t. But you said 'mostly', did they try anything more intense, like electric shock; anything like that?" he asks casually, keeping the worry out of his voice.

"No, nothing like that," Syed says, "there was no need; I responded very well to the therapy sessions, and now I'm cured," he adds confidently, looking out the window.

"Yea, 'cured'," says Christian sarcastically. "I'll bet Zainab and Masood are thrilled."

"Yea, they are," Syed confirms. "We've put the last few months behind us and are moving on with our lives; everything's perfect."

"Really, so why do you look so miserable all the time?" Christian challenges. "Why do you walk aimlessly around the Square for hours on end with your hands in your pockets, going nowhere? Why do I get the impression that without Tamwar by your side, you'd fall apart?"

"I think we've covered everything," snaps Syed, irritated, "so can I please leave?"

"Now that you're straight again, maybe you and Amira can give it another go?" Christian replies with a little smile.

"That's enough," cries Syed, jumping to his feet. "You don't speak her name. You destroyed what we had. We would have been happy if you hadn't led me astray. I don't know what I ever saw in you," he shouts angrily, before turning and walking determinedly towards the door. "Allen was right," he continues over his shoulder without stopping, "you're just a phase I was going through; I can't imagine what I was thinking back then; I look at you now and all I see is a flash exterior with nothing to back it up."

"Unlock this door, now," he demands furiously; even as he repeatedly turns the door handle to try to force it open himself. Christian ..." he shouts, before Christian's hand descends on his shoulder, roughly dragging him around to face him.

"No, no, I don't …" Syed cries desperately, just before his lips are mercilessly crushed under Christian's.

After a few minutes, Christian slowly pulls back. "So, you've missed me, then" he murmurs; as he removes one of Syed's hands, which he guesses will have left scratch marks on his back, from beneath his shirt and carefully removes his other hand from inside his jeans. They are both breathing heavily. "I really shouldn't have done that," he whispers huskily in Syed's ear, as he reaches behind him to unlock the door; "but don't feel too bad, I'm so hot, even straight guys have trouble resisting." With that, he opens the door and gently pushes a dazed Syed out.


	2. Chapter 2

_Later that same day_

"But why do you need to leave?" cries Zainab, "just when we've sorted everything out."

"I need to go back to Leeds for a little while," Syed explains calmly, as he stuffs the last of his clothes into his suitcase. "Roger, you remember I told you about him; well he has this property deal which he needs me to help him with; it's too good an opportunity to pass up; there's very little risk, but we could make a lot of money if it comes off."

"When will you be coming back?" asks Masood.

"I'm not sure, maybe in a few weeks or a few months," Syed admits vaguely. It will depend on how things pan out, and on whether I get any more opportunities from this."

"But you will be coming back, won't you?" asks Tamwar anxiously.

"Of course," he says, as convincingly as he can.

"Okay, okay, hang on, where's the fire?" calls Christian, as he hurries to answer the insistent buzzing. "Yes, who is it?" he snaps into the entry phone speaker.

"It's Tamwar."

Christian immediately buzzes him up.

"What did you say to him? What did you say to him after I left?" Tamwar demands as soon as he is inside the door of the flat.

"Why, what's happened?" asks Christian warily.

"He's left, that's what's happened," snaps Tamwar angrily. "He caught a train to Leeds about 20 minutes ago."

"Right, and when is he coming back?" asks Christian calmly.

"He said, weeks, maybe months, but I got the feeling it might be never," replies Tamwar, his eyes filling with tears. "Everything was starting to calm down; I thought we would be okay, and then he spends half an hour with you and he's running scared. What did you do?" he cries, running his hand distractedly through his hair.

"Get him on the phone," says Christian.

"What?" squeaks Tamwar.

"Do it," snaps Christian.

Instinctively realising the problem has been taken out of his hands, Tamwar follows orders.

"Hi Tam," Syed answers in a subdued voice after a couple of rings.

"Hi Syed," says Christian, taking the phone off Tamwar. "Sy, don't hang up until you've heard what I've got to say. Sy, Sy, are you there?"

After a moment's silence the line goes dead.

Christian immediately presses re-dial, and this time it rings a few times before Syed eventually answers, "I don't want to talk to you; there is nothing you've got to say that I want to hear," he says angrily.

"Sy, please, just give me two minutes, and then you can hang up, I promise," begs Christian, his voice full of desperation.

"Okay," sighs Syed, "but it won't change anything."

"Sy, I understand why you left. I would have done the same thing in your shoes. The way I behaved earlier was unforgivable," he admits, his voice full of remorse. "I should never have spoken to you, or treated you, like that. I am so sorry. And the only reason I'm speaking to you now is to make you a promise that I will never behave that way again. If you come back, I will stay out of your way; I won't approach you, or try to speak to you. We can both live in the Square without ever having to meet. You never go to the Vic, I wouldn't dare go anywhere near the MQ; and we have two different sets of friends; so there is no need for us to ever cross paths. Sy, do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Yes," says Syed hesitantly.

"Maybe one day, a year or two from now, we will be able to exchange a few words, once all the pain has healed; but for now I can see that it's just too soon," Christian concludes, his words ringing with sincerity.

"Why are you suddenly being so understanding?" Syed asks suspiciously.

"Because I don't want you to lose your family again," Christian admits. "I know what almost happened the last time, and I can't bare the idea of you up in Leeds all alone."

"I've got to go," Syed says quietly.

"Please just think about it," begs Christian.

"I will."

"After he hangs up the phone, Christian turns to Tamwar. "Please just let me know if he decides to come home, that's all I ask," he says quietly.

"I will," Tamwar assures him.

A couple of days later, Christian gets a text letting him know that Syed is coming home.

_The following week_

"Are you sure you don't mind opening up, papoo?" asks Zainab as she tries to change Kamil's nappy whilst putting together a menu for one of Bushra's parties.

"No problem," insists Syed, as he washes up his cereal bowl, before grabbing his jacket and heading out the door.

"Walking towards the MQ, he keeps his head down. It's only about 8am, and he knows Christian won't be up yet, but is still afraid of even catching a glimpse of him; or worse, seeing some random guy leaving his place. It's strange, but the longer he goes without running into him, the more Syed builds it up in his head. Since returning, he's only been out when going to or coming from work, and never alone; either Tam, or one of his parents have always been with him. He suspects they no longer trust him with even the most mundane matters, after the way his life has unravelled over the last few months.

He has a rule: he blocks his mind from thinking about Christian when he is with his family, but allows his thoughts free reign when he is by himself. He knows it's not possible to block him out completely. He wonders if Christian ever thinks of him; if Christian is happy. Syed remembers the last time he was happy, it was the last time he was with Christian planning their idealistic future together. He wonders if he will ever be happy again, and accepts matter-of-factly that he probably won't.

"Syed, hi, how've you been?" asks Christian breezily, suddenly appearing out of nowhere.

Syed almost jumps out of his skin. He blushes furiously, guilt written all over his face, as if Christian somehow knows he was thinking about him. "Christian, you startled me," he says breathlessly, staring at him in shock.

"Time for a coffee?" he asks, grabbing his arm and walking him quickly towards his flat before Syed has time to answer.

"Christian? No. What are you doing?" shouts Syed struggling to break free of Christian's grip; but it's already too late, as they are only a few feet from the rear entrance to the building, and within seconds are inside the back door. "You said you'd stay away," he reminds him agitatedly. "You said you wouldn't talk to me; that we wouldn't run into each other …"

"And you said we'd get a bungalow together and call it 'Dunlyin','' Christian replies. What can I say, people lie," he adds dryly, as he drags Syed up the stairs to the flat.

"You can't keep me here," Syed tries to reason; still struggling ineffectually to break free, and almost falling over when Christian suddenly lets him go once they are inside.

"I want you to phone Tamwar, and ask him to bring over your clothes. I want you to tell him you're going to be living here from now on," Christian stuns him by calmly stating his plan.

"You're mad, why would I ever do that?" asks Syed incredulously.

"Because if you don't, I'm going to destroy your family," Christian replies coldly.

"What are you talking about?" Syed tries to laughs, but he doesn't quite pull it off.

"Remember your father's accident before Christmas?" Christian asks. "Well he told Jane he made up the story about the kid on the moped; I'll bet the police would be interested to hear about that. And about the fact that he was trying to hold down three jobs to pay for your wedding, and because of this was probably too tired to drive that night. Or maybe I can speak to the Post Office about all the post that people are saying has recently gone missing. Didn't Masood have trouble before with missing post? How will it look if he's under suspicion again? He might lose his job. I can also speak to the Inland Revenue about all his cash-in-hand work. And if none of that sticks, Jane has agreed to dissolve the Beale-Masood partnership; and after all the bad press your family has had, and the drop in business because of your fall from grace, I'm guessing you guys won't survive if you try to go-it alone.

Of course, if none of that will persuade you, I could get more personal. How would you like it if I turned up at your Mosque one day, maybe when you're there with your father and Tamwar? Or the next time your family is throwing a party, I could turn up and make some sort of a scene; you remember what happened the last time I turned up at one of your family's parties …"

"Why would you do this to us, to me?" Syed asks weakly, reeling from all he's heard. "You told me yourself, you've moved on, so why would you want me living here? How would you explain me being here when you bring guys back?" he pleads desperately. "I know you hate mum, but if you put any of these ideas into practice you will be hurting dad, Tamwar and Kamil as well as her."

"Someday, remind me explain to you how much I hate your father; which is probably even more than I hate your mother, and that's saying something," Christian snaps angrily. "But we're getting side-tracked; you were about to phone Tamwar," he reminds Syed coldly.

"Christian, please don't do this," begs Syed, trying to reason with him. "You can't lock me in here forever; force me to ..." he trails off, embarrassed.

"You won't be locked in here, you're going to have a mobile phone stall to run from, hopefully, tomorrow;" Christian informs him, "and don't flatter yourself, you're going to be sleeping on the couch."

Syed just stares at him, completely lost for words.

"PHONE TAMWAR!" Christian shouts, making him jump, and immediately reach for his phone.

About 20 minutes later an anxious Tamwar appears with his stuff. "What's going on?" he demands as soon as he walks in.

When Syed doesn't speak, he turns to Christian. "I thought you said you were going to leave him alone?" he reminds him sharply.

"I don't have to explain myself to you, anymore than to Zainab or Masood," Christian snaps. You may all hate me, but believe me the feeling is more than mutual. So, now that you've dropped off Sy's stuff, you know where the door is ..."

"Wow, hang on," says Tamwar, "I don't hate you. And for the record, I've actually been fighting your corner," he informs him indignantly.

A surprised Christian looks at Syed questioningly.

"It's true," he confirms, "Tam did try many times to persuade me to talk to you to try and sort things out. And he tried very hard to talk me out of getting help to try to stop myself having feelings for you," he confesses awkwardly, his eyes searching for somewhere safe in the room to look.

"Sorry Tamwar, I just assumed," Christian admits, looking apologetically at him.

"Don't worry about it. I don't blame you for jumping to conclusions, considering mum's and dad's reactions," says Tamwar smiling. "So, are you guys now finally together?" he asks hopefully.

Christian looks to Syed for confirmation, which he reluctantly provides, "Yea, Tam, we've talked everything through and are going to give it a go," he admits, his face flushed with embarrassment.

"Brilliant," beams Tam, reaching out to touch Syed's arm as a gesture of reassurance that he thinks he's doing the right thing. "I'd better get back and give mum and dad the 'good' news," he grins, turning to leave. "I hope you don't mind if Kamil and I come for a visit once in a while?" he asks hesitantly.

"I can't imagine Kamil will be allowed anywhere near this den of iniquity," replies Christian with a smile, but you're always welcome.

"I'll find a way to make it happen," assures Tamwar, before he leaves.

"Right, I'll phone Mr Lister and let him know you're free to meet him later today," says Christian turning to Syed, his mind once more on practical matters. "I assume you weren't bluffing when you said you could come up with stock?"

"Mum ...," Syed tries to say.

"If I see you so much as glance in the direction of your house, I'll be straight on the phone to the police," warns Christian angrily.

"I'll make a few calls," says Syed, hastily reaching for his phone once more.

Over the next few weeks, Syed is so busy getting the stall up and running, he doesn't have much time to think about his family problems. He is up early every morning, and out the door and on his stall selling stock, or on his phone trying to locate stock, or going to pick up stock, most of every day. He only returns late in the evening to grab something to eat and fall into bed.

And during this period, the most interesting thing happens: because he has no choice, he accepts his situation and just gets on with it; in much the same way as he accepted being married to Amira and that life, except that this time he finds he is actually enjoying himself. He no longer dreams of a different life in his quieter moments; he no longer feels trapped in his life.

As he has such a gentle nature and is not one to hold a grudge, he doesn't stay angry with Christian for long. And gradually, without thinking about it, he starts having short conversations with him. In the beginning, they talk about mundane practical stuff, like who has time to do the food shopping or make dinner; and over time they get into the habit of doing small favours for each other, such as Christian minding the stall while Syed goes to pick up stock, or Syed staying in to wait for the new washing machine to be delivered. As time passes, he slips into the habit of telling Christian about his day and asking Christian about his, as they sit eating dinner; and he finds he really looks forward to seeing him every evening, and chatting to him when he pops along to see how he's getting on working on the stall.

And even more amazingly, Syed is so busy, he doesn't have time to dwell too much on Zainab's hostility; or to notice that whilst Masood stays out of his way, he is secretly proud of how hard he is working to make a success of the stall.

He sees Tamwar and Kamil every day as they pass by during their mid-morning walk, and the three of them often have lunch in the Cafe or in the park. For the first time in so long, Syed feels content with his life. He sees him mum every day as she works on the MQ stall, but she ignores him when he speaks to her. He misses the closeness they once had, but accepts that he'd lost that long before he actually moved in with Christian.

In fact, the only problem Syed has had to deal with since moving in with Christian is the couch. He can't deny that it is an extremely comfortable couch; but lying there each night, and only being able to look across at Christian, sleeping mere feet away in just his boxers, without being able to touch, is absolute torture (especially in the very early mornings just as it's starting to get bright, by which time he has usually kicked off the covers). Often, as he watches him sleep, Syed wishes he could paint as well as his mother used to think he could; although he can't imagine her framing a picture of Christian in his underwear and hanging it on their sitting room wall. The very idea gives him a fit of the giggles.

"What?" mumbles Christian in his sleep, "Sy, Sy, where are you?" he cries anxiously.

"I'm here," assures Syed gently.

"Okay," sighs Christian, relaxing once more into sleep.

"Just thinking about giant seagulls," Syed whispers with a smile, before forcing himself to close his eyes on the beautiful view, and settle down to sleep.

_Four weeks after Syed moves in with Christian_

"We're going to need to get milk, we've only got enough for today's breakfast," Syed says by way of 'good morning', as he eats his cereal whilst working on Christian's laptop.

"Right, I'll grab some later before I go to work," mumbles Christian as he stumbles out of bed and into the bathroom.

"What are you doing this morning?" Syed asks.

"I've got to do some laundry, and have a bit of a clear out to make more space; and then I'll probably go shopping and replace the stuff I've thrown away," replies Christian, and Syed can hear the smile in his voice at his own logic. "Because my shift in the Vic doesn't start until five, I won't be home until closing," he adds indistinctly as he washes his teeth.

"Christian, come and see," Syed suddenly shouts excitedly, "Tam's got the website up and running, and we've already got some orders."

Christian rinses and comes to check it out. "Very professional looking," he compliments, leaning over Syed's shoulder, with one arm resting on the back of Syed's chair, whilst he clicks through the menus. "Tamwar's a clever guy."

"You know he's managed to get into Middlesex University in North London, to do a Theatre Arts degree next year," Syed says happily. "He's acting all calm about it, but I know he's ecstatic," he adds, looking up at Christian, and suddenly finding his face is much too close for comfort.

"That's great, really great," replies Christian in a slightly stilted voice, before moving quickly away.

"Yea," replies Syed sadly.

"So, what time are you, Tamwar and Kamil heading off to the carnival?" What time do you need me to cover the stall? Christian asks.

"We were planning to leave at around noon; that should give us plenty of time to see and do everything, and still be back by the time you need to leave for your shift," Syed replies.

"No problem, take as long as you need. I can fob Roxy off for an extra hour if you find you're running late," Christian assures.

"Thanks for doing this," Syed says gratefully.

On the dot of 12, Christian, Tamwar and Kamil, approaching from different directions, turn up at Syed's stall. "Thanks again for doing this," Syed tells Christian, as he hands him the kitty.

"I think someone would like a word," Tamwar laughs, as Kamil gurgles and looks adoringly up at Christian; stretching out both hands to him.

"Hey there little man, you happy to see your uncle Christian?" asks Christian playfully, bending down to give Kamil his full attention. And Kamil shows that he is more than happy, by kicking his legs frantically and reaching out to grab a couple of Christian's fingers so that he can pull him closer.

Syed and Tamwar laugh at Kamil's growing excitement, but they are not the only ones to witness the cute scene.

"Get your hands off my baby," roars Zainab as she comes charging towards them, followed by Masood.

"Mum," begs Tamwar, "please don't make a scene."

Christian gently removes his fingers from Kamil grasp, and stands up to face his foe.

"I told you, I warned you, you sick, disgusting ..." screams Zainab, reaching with both hands outstretched for Christian's face; beyond rage at witnessing her three children looking adoringly at him."

"Mum, NO," shouts Syed, quickly putting himself between Christian and Zainab, and grabbing her arms before they can connect with Christian. "Mum, don't you touch him, don't you insult him," he shouts angrily in her face. "You can say what you like to me, but don't you ever raise your voice or your hands against him again; or I'll make you regret it," he warns.

"Oh, and what are you going to do? And who is going to listen to you? You who have chosen to live a life of ..." demands Zainab, looking at him with distaste.

"Well, for a start," Syed replies, cutting her off, "I might go and speak to uncle Inzamam. I did think it was strange the way he was at our wedding one minute, and gone the next. And maybe then I could get in touch with cousin Khalid back in Pakistan, and ask him to root around to see what he can find out. And I might have a word with the girls in your book club; Denise or Jane might have something interesting to tell me. Everyone's got something to hide, I always find. And you know whatever I come up with, I'll tell as many people as possible ..." he concludes with a smile.

Her face bright red with embarrassment and anger, Zainab turns on her heal and, pushing her worried-looking husband out of the way, storms off.

"You didn't need to do that," says Christian uneasily.

"Of course I did," confirms Syed, "she had no right to speak to you like that.

So, are we ready to go," he says turning to smile at a grinning Tamwar and Kamil.

"Bet she wasn't expecting that," laughs Tamwar as they set off.

"My heart is pounding and my hands are shaking, look" admits Syed with a relieved laugh, raising both hands to prove his point and show how brave he was.

"So, he's finally grown a pair," murmurs Lucy coming up to Christian after they've left. But Christian barely hears her; he is too busy worrying about how choked up with emotion he became on hearing Syed defend him.

It started as a vague plan, born out of his own pain and heartbreak, to hurt Syed by forcing him away from his beloved family; and to beat Zainab and Masood at their own game by forcing them to watch him with Syed each day, with him controlling his life the way they used to. But somehow he has fallen into his own trap - he's forgotten that the only reason Syed is with him is because he forced him to be.

It hits Christian hard to realise that the anger and bitterness he felt towards Syed after he rejected him, and the emotional distance he fought so hard to achieve, have all just melted away over the last few weeks.

_The next morning at around 6am_

"Where have you been?" Syed demands, looking up sleepily from the couch as Christian walks slightly unsteadily towards his bed. "You've been out all night," he accuses, sitting up.

"Go back to sleep, we'll talk later," Christian replies in a tired voice, without looking in his direction. He sits down heavily on the side of the bed and clumsily pulls off his shoes, before lying down still fully dressed and turning way from Syed.

Syed gets up off the couch and marches over to the bed. He grabs Christian's shoulder, shaking him to get his attention. "Christian, were you with a guy?" he accuses, his voice thick with emotion.

"None of your business," mumbles Christian.

Furiously Syed strengthens his grip on his shoulder and jerks him roughly around to face him. "Were you with a guy?" he shouts angrily.

"What I've done, or who I've done tonight is none of your business," says Christian bluntly, pushing his hand away. "You're only here because ..."

But he is cut off in mid-sentence by a stinging slap across the face. "Don't you speak to me like that," Syed cries. "You've no ...," he starts to add, but the words catch in his throat when Christian, his face thunderous, is sitting up and on his feet in an instant.

"I'm sorry, I was angry, but you can't treat me like that," stammers Syed as he quickly backs away, trying to evade him. But Christian reaches out and grabs him by the shoulders and, lifting him off the ground, throws him against the wall, pressing his arm against his throat to hold him there and to stop him struggling.

"Let me make myself very clear," he growls close to his face, "you are here because I blackmailed you into staying. Things may be getting a little cosy, but this isn't 'happily ever after'. As soon as I get bored with this little set-up, you're out on the street; and that little stunt you just pulled has shortened your stay by quite a bit."

"Please Christian," begs Syed in a strangled voice, tears running down his cheeks.

Christian releases the pressure on his throat, fighting the need to take him in his arms and kiss away his tears.

"Why did you bring me here?" Syed asks miserably. "You obviously hate me now."

"I brought you here to teach you and your horrible parents a lesson," Christian informs him bitterly.

I brought you here to hurt Zainab, the way she has hurt me every time she's screamed horrible insults at me these last few months; and because she did everything she could to keep us apart; and for the way she did her best at every turn to convince me of how loved up you and Amira were when you were on honeymoon, even though she knew it was tearing me apart.

I took Masood's son away from him, to pay him back for the joy and satisfaction he took in my pain when he told me Amira was pregnant; and for the way he left me lying beaten in the street, without lifting a hand to help me.

And lastly, I did it to pay you back for all the times you've gotten my hopes up, only to destroy them again; and for planning a future with me, and then telling me I wasn't enough for you.

Are they good enough reasons for you?" he cries, his voice shaking with emotion and his eyes bright with unshed tears.

"Yes," Syed whispers. "I'm so ..." he starts to say, reaching up to touch Christian's cheek tenderly.

"Save it," Christian interrupts him angrily, pushing his hand away, "nothing you have to say can change anything now." And with that he releases Syed and goes back to bed.

Syed stands rooted to the spot for a good five minutes more, and then goes to sit on the couch; his thoughts are all over the place. He sits for the next few hours, just going over everything, and then he makes a decision.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Syed is very nervous as he approaches his family's stall.

"Mas, I don't want to speak to him," Zainab says as soon as she sees him. "I have nothing to say to him," she insists.

"Please Zee, let's hear what he's got to say," Masood begs, putting a calming hand on her arm.

"I haven't come to have another argument," Syed assures immediately, raising his hands in a peaceful gesture. "I would like to come and see you at the house one evening to discuss a few things," he adds hopefully.

"We can do that, can't we?" says Masood cajolingly to his wife.

"After the way he spoke to me yesterday, and the way he's behaved recently …" begins Zainab, her voice rising.

"Not here," Syed says firmly. "I won't discuss it here."

"Fine then," snaps Zainab, "come for dinner tomorrow evening," she invites ungraciously, before turning her back on her son one more time.

That evening, Syed waits up for Christian, who eventually gets home after midnight. "I am going to mum and dad's for dinner tomorrow evening," he says quickly before Christian has even taken his jacket off. "Christian, did you hear what I said?" he asks, when he ignores him. He has to cross the room and take his arm to stop Christian walking into the bathroom and locking him out.

"What do you want me to say?" Christian replies with a sigh. Syed notices that he looks exhausted.

"I have to do this," he tries to explain.

"Whatever, do what you like, I don't care," says Christian bleakly, pulling his arm out of Syed's grip and walking away.

The following evening, Christian sits flicking through the channels on the TV as Syed gets ready. He hasn't spoken to him since the night before. Syed says "I'll see you later" as he's leaving, but Christian doesn't respond.

"Hey there," Tamwar greets him with a big hug when he arrives at the house. "Kamil's upstairs asleep, but you can see him later."

"Son, it's good to see you," Masood smiles at Syed, as he reaches out to hug him.

"Hope I'm not too early," replies Syed, turning away to hang his jacket and rejecting his father's embrace.

"Syed?" questions Masood.

"Something smells nice," Syed interrupts, walking past him into the sitting room.

"Syed," greets Zainab coldly, on seeing him as she arrives with some food. She is quite surprised when Syed ignores her, and turns to Tamwar to discuss further something they'd talked about earlier in the day.

"Let's sit down," Zainab commands, once she's put the last of the food on the table.

Throughout dinner, Syed answers briefly any questions Masood and Zainab put to him, and he nods politely to show he's listening when they tell him something.

"So, have you come to your senses?" Zainab eventually snaps, unable to hold back any longer. "Have you come to ask if you can move home? Because if you have, you need to understand that before we …"

"I've tried to understand your position with regard to my being gay," Syed interrupts calmly, looking around at each of them. "I've tried to accept that you now find me repulsive," he says coldly, addressing Zainab and Masood.

"Please, Syed …" attempts Masood.

"And I've been grateful to you for your love and support," he interrupts, smiling at Tamwar. "I know you both hate Christian," he continues, addressing his parents, "but I never realised just how far that hate would take you."

"To be honest, I've hoped these past few weeks that we could find a way to live with the present situation; that even though you hold your own uncompromising views on the matter, you might eventually come to understand and accept that I love Christian and can't live without him; and maybe even get to a point where we can at least be polite to each other. But I was naive to expect so much of you.

I've always been so desperate not to let you down, not to bring shame on you, that I've forgotten that it works both ways; and right now it is I who am ashamed of you.

"What are you talking about," sneers Zainab. "What has that ..."

"Don't you dare say a word against him," warns Syed. "I think maybe you've both forgotten that Christian is a human being, and that he is a creation of Allah the same as we are," he adds bitterly, looking directly at Masood. "To get to the point: Dad I want you to come with me now back to the flat, and I want you to apologise to Christian for not helping him when you saw him lying beaten on the pavement; and then I want you to go to Mosque and pray for forgiveness for what you did to a fellow human being."

"Syed ..." Masood starts to say, but Syed cuts across him.

"I want you to also pray that Christian accepts your apology; because if he doesn't, then I'm going to try to persuade him to come with me to the police station to make a statement about the beating: naming Qadim for what he did, but also you for leaving him lying injured in the street. I don't want to have to go after Qadim because of the extra pain it will bring Amira; but if Christian is not able to put this traumatic experience behind him, then I will push for justice."

"From now on, he is my main concern above all else."

"You would allow me to possibly go to jail, or get a criminal record?" asks Masood sadly. "For him?"

From the beginning," Syed continues as if he hadn't spoken, "I've not given Christian the same care and respect I've given you both. When I found out he'd been beaten up, I should have gone straight away to see him; I should have made sure he was all right. But instead, I was afraid to break a ridiculous promise I made to you about staying away from him. I was more worried about getting you both back together; so worried in fact, that I actually sat down to eat dinner with you, even though I was afraid you were responsible for Christian getting beaten up. That's how little importance and respect I gave him; gave our love for each other. I was brought up to believe that being gay was shameful, and I was ashamed of me and Christian. I always put my family first, without realising that when we fell in love he became my family, too. You both need to understand that I love Christian just as much as you love each other. I've always looked at him as being this big, strong guy, full of bravado, able to deal with anyone or anything; I didn't understand that he needed my protection just as much as I needed his. And because I didn't protect Christian, I allowed you to hurt him; I allowed Qadim to hurt him; I let him down. But it won't happen again.

"Well, isn't that sweet, our little boy's in love," sneers Zainab. "You're sick, you know, you're both …"

"Oh, just change the record," snaps Syed, abruptly pushing back his chair and standing up. He leans towards her for a moment and says quietly, "You know, you're really starting to get boring now," before straightening up and turning to walk out.

"Christian won't want me coming anywhere near his flat," says Masood quickly, stopping him in his tracks.

"Well, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it," replies Syed firmly; trying not to let Masood see how shocked he is that his dad has actually listened to him, and is prepared to even consider making an apology."

"Okay," replies Masood flatly; he goes to get his jacket.

When they arrive back at the flat, they find Christian sprawled face down on the bed with an empty wine bottle beside him.

"Christian, are you awake?" whispers Syed, gently touching his shoulder.

"What d'you want?" he slurs, opening one eye and looking balefully up at him. "Come back to get your stuff, have you?" he asks bitterly, before turning his head away.

"I've got someone here who has something to say to you," Syed tells him gently.

"Tell them to go away, I don't want to see anyone," Christian mumbles.

"Please Christian," he begs, "it's my dad."

"Masood?" growls Christian, now turning around and struggling to get up into a sitting position, Syed having definitely gotten his attention. He manages to get his balance on the second attempt, with Syed's help; and sits staring disbelievingly at Masood for a few seconds before telling him angrily to get out.

Syed can see the vulnerability he is desperately trying to cover up, and it breaks his heart. "It's okay," he says softly, taking Christian's hand in his. He then looks at Masood.

"Christian ...," Masood starts to say, but his voice fails him. He clears his throat and starts again. "Christian, I want to apologise for leaving you lying hurt on the ground that night. It was a terrible thing to do, and I can offer no excuse for it. I've never done anything like that in my life before, and will always deeply regret it. I am very sorry."

Christian looks at him intently for a moment before turning to Syed. "Please ask him to go," he says huskily, his eyes filling with tears.

"Of course," Syed replies, putting his arms around him to comfort him. Over his shoulder, he motions to Masood to leave.

After he's gone, they lie back on the bed, with Christian's head resting on Syed's chest and Syed's arms around him; and after a little while Syed realises that Christian has fallen asleep. He kisses the top of his head, and enjoys the feeling of being so close to him for the first time in so long. Eventually, he also drifts off to sleep.

The next time he wakes, it's dark and Christian is in the bathroom throwing up. "Sometimes alcohol really sucks, doesn't it?" Syed says with a smile, as he puts his hand under his forehead to support him.

"Um," mumbles Christian.

When he's feeling a little better, Syed leaves him to freshen up, and goes to the kitchen.

"Thanks," murmurs Christian, accepting the toast and tea Syed hands him when he finally feels well enough to leave the bathroom. "Wine doesn't always agree with me," he admits.

"No," agrees Syed.

"Did I dream that earlier?" he asks.

"If you mean my dad making an awkward apology, then no you didn't," replies Syed. I know it doesn't let him off the hook," he adds, "and if you want to take this further, I'm with you all the way."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, if it would help you to go to the police and make a statement telling them exactly what happened with Qadim, including telling them about my dad leaving you when you needed help. I know time has passed, but there are hospital records to back you up; and someone's bound to have seen Qadim and his thugs around the square that day."

"You're kidding, right?" asks Christian incredulously.

"I've never been more serious," says Syed sincerely. "What they did was wrong, just as wrong as what that guy did to you last year after my engagement party. I've thought about suggesting you report it before, but didn't think I had any right to, since I wasn't there to help you after it happened; and I felt so guilty about what I did to Amira that the idea of causing her any more pain was, well ..." he trails off.

"You're not the only one feeling guilty about what happened to Amira," Christian replies.

They sit in silence for a little while, each lost in his own thoughts.

"I won't deny that the beating really shook me up," Christian eventually admits. "I still feel a bit jittery sometimes, and have had a few nightmares; but involving the police after all this time, would only force me to re-live it all again. And besides, I don't really want to have any more dealings with Qadim.

To be totally honest, you blanking me in the street, and not even caring enough to ask me how I was, hurt more than the beating," he adds, his voice full of sadness. He then gets up and goes back to bed, putting an end to the conversation.

After a few minutes, Syed follows. He gets in beside Christian and slips his arm around his waist, pulling him back against him. "I'm sorry," he whispers.

Christian doesn't reply, and after a little while Syed starts to get restless.

"Forget it," snaps Christian, grabbing his hand as it starts to move lower, "nothing's changed, you're not getting any."

"No, maybe not tonight," murmurs Syed, determinedly snuggling closer to his man. He notices that Christian doesn't remove his arm from around his waist, or let go of his hand.

The next day, Syed leaves for work before Christian wakes, and when he returns in the evening Christian is in the kitchen cooking dinner.

"Need any help with that?" he asks after he's removed his jacket.

"No, it's almost ready," he replies, "just grab a couple of forks and some water from the fridge."

As they eat, Syed tells him about his day; Christian says very little.

After they've washed up, Christian turns on the TV and starts flicking through the channels; and Syed comes and sits beside him, tucking himself in by his side and moving Christian's arm so that it's around his shoulder.

"Sy," he says wearily, removing his arm, "I can't do this."

"Because you don't want me anymore?" asks Syed, putting his arm back where it was. "Because you've stopped loving me?"

"Yes, both, and it's too late to go back now," insists Christian, removing his arm once more and turning to face him.

"You're such a liar," says Syed, smiling confidently at him.

"What makes you think that?" he replies.

"Because when you were drunk the other night, you told me you still love me," Syed tells him, crossing his fingers behind his back.

"I did not," says Christian fairly confidently. He moves along the couch away from Syed. "I wouldn't have said that," he insists, "and anyway stuff you say when you're drunk doesn't count. I've moved on."

"We both know you haven't," Syed says calmly.

"The other night when I stayed out, I went clubbing with Roxy and Chelsea, and I met a guy," says Christian desperately.

"No you didn't. I spoke to Roxy."

"You did what?" he asks incredulously.

"Well, it wasn't pretty," Syed confesses, "and I really didn't fancy it, but I had to know, so I went to the Vic the next morning. There was no one there except Roxy and Chelsea, and I got a frosty reception to say the least. Roxy refused to talk about you behind your back, but Chelsea was only too happy to tell me that you'd been with lots of blokes since we split. And even though I'd suspected as much, it was a bit of a blow; there was nothing I could say, I had to get out of there.

When Roxy found me, I was sitting on one of the swings feeling sorry for myself," he laughs self-consciously. "She wouldn't let me leave until she'd explained that since we split you've only had a couple of one-night stands, and they were before I started living with you. She also reluctantly told me that you've admitted to her that you still carry a torch for me.

I know she was telling the truth, because she has made it clear more than once that she doesn't like me, and would love nothing better than to be able to tell me you're no longer interested.

"You've no right to go speaking to Chelsea and Roxy about me," Christian accuses, trying to avoid having to explain himself.

"Oh yes I have," snaps Syed, suddenly outraged, "especially if you're going to go around picking up other guys, and making me look like an idiot. What do you think people will say if they see you out on the pull only a couple of weeks after I've moved in? Don't forget, I have to go out on the stall every day and face everyone ..."

"Oh, man," laughs Christian, "do you know who you sound like?"

"Who?" asks Syed unimpressed.

"Your mother," replies Christian.

"I do not," argues Syed, even more outraged.

"Ha-ha, you so do," laughs Christian, as he ducks to avoid Syed's swipe.

"Well, she's not always wrong," mutters Syed, sulking.

"And to think I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you," says Christian, his laughter dying as he realises what he's said.

"You still could," says Syed softly, reaching out to touch his cheek and looking deep into his eyes.

"No, Sy, that ship has sailed," he replies firmly, doing his best to sound convincing.

"Have I told you lately that I love you," murmurs Syed, drawing his face slowly towards him.

"I said 'No', Syed, I can't do this again," shouts Christian, his anger getting the better of him. He can feel himself starting to weaken, so he pushes Syed away and gets up to leave the room; but Syed quickly follows, and grabs his arm to stop him from going too far.

"Why not?" he asks gently, turning him around to face him.

"Because as soon as your family decide they want you back, you'll go running home; you love them more than me, remember," Christian cries, his voice full of pain. And even if your family wasn't an issue, I can't handle the fact that you're ashamed of what you are, of what we are; so ashamed that you tried to 'cure' yourself."

"Christian, I promise you I'm not going to go running home," Syed says as firmly as he can. "The last few weeks here living with you, have been the happiest of my life. And I now know that being with you doesn't mean I will never see my family; well Tam and Kamil at any rate. Mum can barely stand to look at me right now, but I believe that if I keep some kind of dialogue going, then hopefully slowly but surely she'll come around. I'm not kidding myself that she will ever be completely at ease with me the way she used to be," he admits sadly, "but I think things will get easier over time once she accepts that I'm serious about spending my life with you."

"Um," murmurs Christian, non-committedly.

"As for 'curing' myself," Syed continues awkwardly, "I did desperately want to stop having these feelings. I thought that if I could stop loving you, all my problems would magically disappear. I know it hurts you to hear me say this, and I'm sorry. But to be honest, after seeing you with that guy, I didn't care anymore about my own future, I'd lost you and I knew there would never be anyone else; but it hurt mum and dad so much my being gay, so I thought I could change for them.

I won't deny I've always wished I wasn't gay, it would have saved me from so many painful and uncomfortable moments, so many lies. But if this past year has thought me anything, it's that when it comes to my feelings for you, it doesn't matter how hard I try or what I do I can't control them or change them.

Living here with you has given me a little taste of what your life is like, and it's not as scary as I thought it was going to be. I'll admit, I'm still afraid of what people will say to me; and I would still find it difficult to tell anyone I was gay; but it's getting a little easier each day to walk out into the Square to do my day's work.

In my life, Allah has helped me so many times in so many ways; I've always felt he was watching over me. But this past year, no matter how hard I prayed, begged him to help me to be strong, to do the right thing, to be a good Muslim; I couldn't understand why he wouldn't listen to me. But during the past couple of months, I've had a lot of time to think, and I've realised that Allah has actually been trying to guide me along the right path the whole time. What I was praying for, what I was asking Allah to do was to change what I am; but why would Allah change something he created? I now see that Allah believes the right thing for me is to be with you; he did answer my prayers, I just didn't realise it. So how can I be ashamed of being gay, if it's the way Allah made me; if it's the life Allah wants for me?

I don't think I will ever be able to be as open about my sexuality as you, but I think I've finally accepted who I have to be. And, thanks mainly to you, it has happened so very gradually, but I now feel more comfortable with who I am.

Couldn't you give me one more chance?" he pleads.

"I don't know," Christian says helplessly. "How can I trust you anymore."

"Do you still love me?" Syed asks him gently.

"What if the stall hadn't worked out for you?" he replies, still desperately fighting to keep the promise he made to himself. "If things had gone wrong, you'd ..."

"I'd find another job. I don't mind what sort of work I do. Being happy these last few weeks hasn't been about the job, it's been about being with you; it's been about all the little mundane things we do together every day. The stall has been just one of the bonuses, but it would have meant nothing without you."

"I really tried to move on, I couldn't take it anymore; I wanted to move on," Christian admits hopelessly.

"I know," Syed says sadly, "but I'm so glad you didn't succeed," he adds, gently stroking Christian's cheek, trying to soothe his pain.

Christian stares into his eyes for an endless moment, before making a decision that will change the course of his life forever.

"I can't do it, I can't go through it all again, it hurts too much, I'm sorry," he whispers wretchedly; and, removing Syed's hand, he steps back from him.

"NO," cries Syed desperately, hearing the finality in his words. He reaches out to him, but Christian backs away.

"I think it would be best if you moved out," he says, his voice dead, emotionless. "Maybe you could find a place with Tamwar; the stall is doing well, you can afford it. If you need a deposit, I'll give you the money," he offers, forcing the words out, unable to look at him.

"Don't do this ... If you do this ..." Syed pleads, his voice raw with emotion. "Do you really think I'll let you go now?" he cries, grasping and holding tightly onto Christian's hands, even as Christian tries to pull away. "After a year, a lifetime of accepting my fate, you give me a glimpse of how it could be and then you snatch it away. Do you really think I'll let you leave me now?" he cries frantically, his voice rising in anger and pain.

"Sy," Christian tries to calm him down, "you'll find someone else …" he tries to reason, even as his heart is breaking into a million pieces.

"Someone else? Someone else?" Syed screams. Do you think I risked losing my family, my community for some casual crush that I'll get over? Some guy I'll love for a while and then move on from? I'll never stop loving you, can't you see that?" he begs hoarsely.

"I just can't do it anymore ..." Christian cries brokenly, tears slowly rolling down his cheeks.

But Syed cuts him off, "You can't do it anymore? Really? Well that's just tough, because you don't have a choice," he shouts angrily. "If you leave me, I'll do it again, I won't care ..."

"You'll do what?" asks Christian, his voice now dangerously quiet.

"I'll have nothing worth ..." Syed starts to say, but the look in Christian's eyes stops him.

"Don't you even think about doing something like that, EVER," cries Christian, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him. "Do you know how lucky you are to be alive, how lucky you are that Masood found you when he did?" he screams at him. "You could have died," he cries. "You could have died," he then repeats the words more slowly to himself. "I could have lost you forever," he adds huskily, the words and their meaning slowly sinking in for him; and then he starts to cry, gently at first and then harder and harder until his whole body is shaking. He buries his head in his hands, unable to bear the pain.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," begs Syed. "I should never have said that, I didn't mean it," he cries. He puts his arms around Christian and holds him tightly. "I won't try to do it again, I won't" he promises urgently, trying to put his mind at ease. "I swear," he whispers, pressing his lips close to Christian's ear, trying to reach him.

"Syed, you've got to promise me …" Christian sobs, when he is able to get the words out.

Syed lifts Christian's face and looks deep into his eyes, "I promise you, on my baby brother's life, I will never even for a moment ever again consider taking my own life."

"If anything happened to you, I don't know what I'd do," Christian whispers.

"Back at you," says Syed softly, tears rolling down his cheeks. He reaches up and gently presses his lips against Christian's; and after a moment Christian can't help but respond to his touch, and they gently kiss, drawing comfort from each other, totally lost in each other.

"You won't ever leave me, will you?" Syed pleads huskily after a little while.

"I've never left you, it's always been you who has walked away," Christian reminds him sadly.

"I'll never leave you again," Syed promises faithfully, his voice shaking with emotion.

And Christian realises that this time he truly means it. He feels like a weight that has been pressing down on his heart for so long has finally been lifted. His mouth finds Syed's once more, and this time he kisses him passionately, releasing all the emotion and passion he's held back all these weeks.

"So, now do I get any?" grasps Syed breathlessly against his lips when they eventually come up for air.

"SY-ED," cries Christian, pulling back, shocked, "we're not there yet, we've just come through …"

"I know, I know," mumbles Syed, blushing, "but do you realise how long it's been since we've … I just need ... Can you imagine what it's like not being able to touch you for four long months, and then getting a few precious days, and then … it's even worse after. And you know when someone says to you 'Sweets are bad for you', well what do you want most in the world at that moment? And now can you imagine being told that homosexuals are bad for you every day for a month; it got to the stage where every time I heard the word, I got a picture of you in my head: sometimes you were smiling at me, but mostly you were looking at me in that way you look when, you know, you want …, and sometimes you were wearing clothes …; AND have you any idea what it's been like living in this flat with you for a whole month and not being able to …

Maybe we could talk after, all night if you want, but …" he trails off sheepishly, and buries his face in Christian's neck, too embarrassed to look him in the eye.

"Can we, Christian, please?" he begs from his hiding place, his voice muffled.

"Hey," says Christian gently, hooking a couple of fingers under Syed's chin and lifting his face up so that he can look into his beautiful eyes, "you know you never have to beg me for anything," he says softly.

"You were going to leave me a minute ago," Syed reminds him resentfully.

"I was going to try," Christian admits ruefully.

"So, now can we?" he persists.

"Can I say something first?" Christian asks mischievously, a smile tugging at his lips, despite his best efforts.

"Okay," says Syed patiently.

"I want you to promise me that if anyone gives you a hard time, you'll come and talk to me; even if it's your mum. I won't kick off at anyone unless you want me to, I'll just listen. Promise me you won't bottle stuff up."

"I promise," says Syed huskily, reaching to kiss him to show how much this means to him. But as he tries to deepen the kiss, Christian pulls back.

"You know I would do anything to protect you from anyone who would try to hurt you," Christian assures him. "The only time I won't be able to help you is when you go to Mosque," he adds regretfully, "but you can still talk to me about it. I know it won't be easy when Tamwar goes to Uni, and you won't have him to go to Mosque with you."

"And you know that I find it easier to talk to you then to anyone I've ever met," Syed reminds him with a smile. "Last year, when we were together, we shared everything; and we've already pretty much slipped back into that way of going over the past few weeks. You're not just the man I love, you're the best friend I've ever had.

Now, is that it?" he asks pointedly.

"Right, fine, come here," growls Christian mock angrily, suddenly reaching out to grab a surprised Syed and throw him over his shoulder caveman style; before carrying him, giggling and protesting, over and throwing him down on the bed. And before Syed can do more than breathlessly say "Christian!," he's on top of him, kissing him passionately and ripping off his clothes.

_Much, much later_

"I love you," whispers Syed, lying in Christian's arms looking very contentedly up at him.

"I love you too," says Christian softly, leaning down to gently kiss him and hold him close, forever.

The End

Thank you for reading this fanfic. I hope you liked it.


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